


unwind

by peacherine



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Club Sex, Clubbing, Exhibitionism, F/M, Grinding, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 09:25:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19765303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacherine/pseuds/peacherine
Summary: They're on the dance floor now, swaying to the music among the throng of sweaty bodies. The thick air hangs heavy with the sweat of the people and the glare of the lights. Oblivious to it all, Clarke's arms drape around Bellamy's neck and he's gripping her waist, the heat of his darkened gaze reflected in her own.All she can see is Bellamy.





	unwind

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: I want bratty Clarke at a bar/club just dripping from teasing Bellamy and he just gets her off on the dance floor
> 
> Written for The 100 Kink Meme held in January.
> 
> This is literally my first fanfic ever so please be kind.

Clarke was going crazy. Bellamy had been teasing her all night, their usual bickering becoming more playful, more flirtatious. The two of them were alone at a booth, yet her leg was pressed up against his, their faces so close, and their hands brushing against each other as they nursed their drinks. 

Something was shifting between them.

"You're dressed to impress tonight." Bellamy's gaze drifted down from her face. She blushed furiously, feeling his gaze darken over her exposed legs and low-cut top. Suddenly, Clarke's skirt felt too short but not short enough at the same time. She swallowed nervously, shifting in her seat, trying to ease the warmth she can feel in her core. 

"Stop gawking like some pervert, Bell."

His eyes snapped back to her face, grinning with a dark smile. "Finn was an idiot. You're too good for him."

"Ugh, I don't wanna think about that ass." 

"Your ass is too good for him."

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Just shut up and drink, please? I'm here to relax." She huffed, feeling Bellamy's gaze on her as she downed her beer. She could feel a heat growing within, and it wasn't just the alcohol. As she lowered her glass, Clarke's eyes met his. She licked her lips slowly, savoring the bitter taste of beer, watching his eyes flicker down to watch her mouth. 

Bellamy straightened in his seat, his legs pressing closer to hers. His hand, wanders over to ghost Clarke's knees, testing her, seeing if she approved. Bellamy leans forward into her space. "Are you relaxed?" 

She felt her breath hitch. Their eyes met, and she knows her gaze is just as dark as his. Clarke bites her lip, and she feels his hand carefully rest on her thigh. With just heat of his palm, Clarke feels that pull, that desire strengthening in her core, tendrils of lust seeping into her skin. Their faces are only inches apart, and she can smell the alcohol he's drinking and the cologne he's wearing and the musk that is Bellamy. Feeling emboldened, she leans in, lips grazing his skin, her teeth scratching the shell of his ear. 

"I wouldn't mind if you helped me unwind." 

With this, Bellamy's hands tighten around her leg, his thumb drawing mindless circles on the skin of her upper thigh. It sends jolts of heat through her body, straight to her cunt. They're sitting so close, and Clarke can feel his breath on her neck as his hand drifts further up her leg, closer to the hem of her skirt. They're entwined now, wrapped up in their little bubble of lust, the noise of the bar just a muffled rhythm. She slowly leans into his neck, holding back a whimper, aching, desperate to feel more of his fingers, more of him. Things are escalating fast, but she can't stop herself. She feels a wetness between her legs and knows this night can only end with Bellamy.

They're on the dance floor now, swaying to the music among the throng of sweaty bodies. The thick air hangs heavy with the sweat of the people and the glare of the lights. Oblivious to it all, Clarke's arms drape around Bellamy's neck and he's gripping her waist, the heat of his darkened gaze reflected in her own. All she can see is Bellamy.

"You're so fucking hot, Clarke. Goddamn," His fingers sneak beneath the fabric of her top, grazing against her spine. Clarke gasps at the feather-like touch, drawing his attention to her lips. She lifts her chin to meet his lips with a soft kiss. She wraps her hand around his neck and pulls him closer; one of his hands has traveled down to her ass, and she can feel him right there, hard against her. Bellamy nibbles on her lips and she opens her mouth, deepening their kiss, their tongues dancing to the same rhythm of the music around them. 

She digs her nails into his neck, and Bellamy groans into her mouth. The song changes to a deep booming rhythm, and Clarke pulls back with a playful smirk. She spins in his arms and presses her back against his chest. She can feel his smile against her neck, and he peppers her skin with soft kisses as his hands grip her hips and they start to slowly grind together. 

Clarke can feel his growing erection pressing into her ass, and she loves it. 

Bellamy's hands begin to explore, creeping under her blouse and tracing circles on her belly as they sway to the music. She shivers, and Clarke can feel his lips curving into a grin as he mouths at her neck. "I believe you said something about needing to unwind?" He pronounces his words with a sharp thrust of his hips, and Clarke responds with a slow roll of her backside. She can feel her arousal pooling between her legs, seeping into her panties. 

Bellamy breaths against her skin, sucking gently on the slope of her neck. His hand remains on a tight grip of her waist, digging into her skin, while the other travels up to palm her breast. Clarke hums in approval, arching back to press into his hands. She whimpers as his groping becomes more bold, squeezing her breasts and his fingers tweaking her nipples. A crazed lust ripples through her, like a bolt of lighting connecting her breasts straight to her cunt, making her blood sing with need, stealing her breath away. 

"Bell," she manages a whimper as he pinches her nipple. "I need .. Bell, I need--"

"I've got you, princess. Tell me what you need." Her hand grips his, the one on her hip. She pushes it lower, dipping along the front of her skirt, so close to where she wants him, where she needs him. 

"I need you babe," Clarke sobs, feeling his growl rumble against her skin. She reaches behind to thread her fingers in his dark curls. "I need you to touch me."

Bellamy stiffens for a split second, pausing briefly before resuming his rhythmic grinding. His hand ghosts along the hem of her skirt, fingers dipping just beneath to dance along her inner thigh. "Is this what you want? You want my hands on your sweet pussy?"

"Yessssss," Clarke lets out a whine, wishing she could just yank his pants down and impale herself on his cock, right there on the dance floor. She wriggles her hips back, his erection sliding perfectly against the cleft of her ass. So close, but not close enough. 

Finally, Bellamy slips his hand under her skirt, pressing his fingers to her drenched panties. "Fuck babe, you're so wet."

Clarke mewls, her head falling back on his shoulder. "It's for you, Bell. I'm wet for you." 

Bellamy grunts in response, thumbing the material aside to slide his fingers through her folds, pressing his palm against her mound. Clarke cries out, desperate for more. He curses as his fingers slip through her wetness, pushing a finger inside her. "Shit, Clarke. You're so tight and wet. Fuck." He curls his finger into her, making her keen against him. 

Clarke closes her eyes and grips his hair tightly. His finger plunges deep inside, massaging her walls as she pushes down against his hand. His other hand continues to palm her breast, pinching her nipples just as a second finger enters her. 

Clarke can only choke back a whine, her voice rasping with need. "Feels good. Shit. It feels so good, Bell."

Bellamy doesn't stop his ministrations, his fingers dragging with delicious friction while his palm grinds against her clit, unabashedly fingerfucking in the middle of the club. "I bet you taste good too, princess. I wanna get my mouth on you, fuck you with my tongue until you come." He kisses her shoulder, laving his tongue into the exposed skin, a tease of his dirty promises. Clarke clenches her pussy at the thought of his head between her legs, squeezing his fingers and earning a growl from Bellamy. "That's it babe, fuck yourself on my fingers."

"Be- Bell! Please..."

"You want to feel good, yeah? I'll give that to you," he whispers into her ear. "I'm so fucking hard for you. I bet you'd feel good wrapped around my cock. Would you like that, princess? Feel my cock pounding into your cunt, filling you up, making you come over and over?"

Clarke can't hold back her moans, her strangled voice lost to the boom of the music. Her senses are overloaded. His hand not under her skirt is wrapped around her chest, tugging at her nipples. His cock is hard against her ass, rolling sensuously in time with the music. He nibbles at her pulse, stifling his needy sobs into her neck. How he manages to tease Clarke so completely is beyond her. Bellamy is relentless, his thumb now teasing patterns into her clit as his fingers continue to pump inside her, stroking her, curling into her, finding that sensitive spot, making her rock against his hand, a frenzied dance of desire. 

"I can't- I'm almost-" Clarke whimpers, feeling the tension coil within her belly. She turns her head, finding Bellamy's eyes burning into hers, dark and intense. The pleasure rises within her, twisting and pulsing, threatening to rip her apart.

His other hand comes to grip her hip tightly as his thumb rubs at her clit, pushing her closer to release. "Come, baby. Come for me."

Bellamy's rough words send her over the edge and Clarke comes with a shriek, her orgasm ripping through her, white stars bursting in her vision and sweeping through every cell of her body. He gently strokes as her throbbing pussy convulses around his fingers, her body writhing with pleasure in his arms. 

Clarke's legs tremble as he draws his hand from her panties, bringing his fingers to his mouth, eyes on Clarke as he drinks in her spent arousal. She bites her lips at the sight, her eyes glued to his as he pulls them out with a pop.

"I'm feeling pretty relaxed now." Clarke murmurs, leaning in to capture his lips once more, their tongues caught in a lazy dance. Clarke feels his erection jutting against her backside, long and hard and pressing into her with a soft urgency. Bellamy smiles into their kiss, slowly rolling his hips with hers. 

"If you don't mind, I'm feeling a bit wound up myself now."

Clarke's limbs are still trembling when his hands tighten around her waist, spinning her around to face him, pulling her in for a hot and dirty kiss. The energy has changed around them to something more desperate now. He grabs one of her legs to wrap around his hip and he's right there, his cock grinding right into her center, the fabric of his jeans giving the most amazing friction. 

"Clarke, do you want this? Want this cock in your wet cunt?"

She can only groan in reply, mouthing helplessly into his neck. She rolls her hips to meet his his thrust, a delicious drag against clit and she shudders, can feel her cunt surge in desire. 

"Bellamy.. please!!"

Her eyes are glazed over, scarcely aware of the horde of people around them, other couples engaged in their own desperate grinding, the facade of dance well and truly forgotten. She feels his cock pressing into her arousal, separated by far too much material, and digs her nails into his arms in frustration. "Bell!" She bites back a moan. "I want your cock inside me. Now."

Bellamy stops his rutting, burning his eyes into hers for a heavy moment before glancing to the side, checking the queue for the bathroom. Clarke shakes her head, grabbing his hand and leading him elsewhere. "Lines too long. Can't wait." 

They push through the crowd and suddenly her back is against a wall, cloaked in the shadows of some deserted corner of the club, the music still booming in the air. Bellamy crowds around her, leaning into her, sucking on that sensitive spot behind her ear while his hands push up under her skirt. 

"Look at your pretty cunt, so wet and perfect. Can't wait to get fucked," Bellamy grins into her mouth, tastes her tongue against his. He yanks her panties down and cups her ass, grinds himself against her bare cunt. "You want this here? Want me to fuck you with all these people here?"

Clarke sucks on his bottom lip before biting down, earning a growl in return. She slides a hand between them, cupping his cock through his jeans. He's hard and heavy, and she strokes him roughly before turning to face the wall. She arches her back and pushes her ass against him, turning to catch his dark gaze. 

"I want you to fuck me, Bell."

Something snaps in Bellamy, one hand roughly grabbing her hip while the other unzips his pants. He nudges his foot between hers, her legs parting and her hands bracing the wall. Finally, finally, she feels the length of his cock slide between her slick folds, bumping her clit and making her whine before he pushes into her cunt, her voice reduced to nothing but a silent cry. He's so thick, soooo thick and long, and Clarke shudders as she feels the delicious stretch inside her. Bellamy curses softly, grasping her waist before ramming into her again, and again, fucking her at a thunderous pace. She braces the wall helplessly, spreading her thighs and feeling him hit further and further inside.

"Fuck, you feel amazing. So fucking hot, princess. You got no idea," he grunts into her ear, pushing her hair aside so he can suck at her pulse. Bellamy's snapping his hips, muscles taut, his chest pressing heavy against her, his hands wandering up her shirt to cup her breasts. He reaches into her bra and kneads them, pinching and rolling her nipples between his fingers, making Clarke cry out as a bolt of pleasure courses straight to her cunt. She clenches around him and he moans, squeezing her tits. 

The music pulses around them, guiding Bellamy's hips to a powerful rhythm. Anyone who saw them against the wall would know exactly what they're up to, but Clarke doesn't care. All she can feel is Bellamy's hands, Bellamy's mouth, Bellamy's cock. All she wants is Bellamy.

"Fuck, Bell. So good." She's pushing her hips back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust, feeling his cock drag against her walls and filling her up so perfectly, a sweet fire coursing through her veins. She feels his balls slapping against her, feels his sweat mixing with hers, feels his lips hot against her skin. It feels so filthy, so good. He feels so fucking good. 

"Your pussy was made for me, princess. Shit. Wanna stay inside you forever. So fucking perfect."

Bellamy grunts against her ear, nuzzling her neck and licking up her sweat. One hand holds onto her hip while the other snakes down between her legs, his fingers finding her clit and she gasps, feeling her orgasm rising. "Shitshitshit, Bell, I'm--"

He pinches her clit and bites down into her neck and she's gone, her body going taut as she comes, her screams lost to the music as she rides her climax. Bellamy keeps fucking her through it, relentlessly slamming into her, prolonging her pleasure. Bellamy's thrusts are losing rhythm, becoming erratic and wild as her pussy spasms around him. 

"Gonna-- gonna come babe, fuck."

Clarke presses her hands into the wall and bends down further, pushing her ass into him and turns around to meet his eyes. "Fill me up, babe. Want your come inside me." 

Her sweet moaning is what sends him over the edge, one final push and his cock jerks inside her, coating her walls with his come. Clarke hums as he slumps against her, breathing deeply into her shoulder as he softens inside of her. 

Slowly, Bellamy pulls out of her, and she can feel their combined come dripping down her thighs. After putting himself back into his pants, he reaches down her legs to pull her panties back, gently caressing her ass before quickly swiping his fingers between her thighs. As he lifts his hand up, Clarke grabs his wrist and pulls his fingers to her mouth, eyes closing in satisfaction as she tastes their spent arousal. She hollows out her checks and sucks gently, teasing his fingertips with her tongue before letting go. Bellamy lets out a wretched groan and she opens her eyes just in time to see him reach for her neck and press his lips to hers, searching for the taste of their come. 

They stay like that for what seems like forever, sweet languid kisses as Bellamy presses her into the wall, her fingers lazily brushing through his curls. He pulls away with a smile, reaching down for her hand and pulling her towards the exit of the club. 

Clarke leans into his shoulder, her lips brushing against his ear. "Come on, let's head back to my place. I dunno if I'm feeling all that relaxed yet."

"Sure thing, princess. Whatever the hell you want."


End file.
